


Perfect

by Vanessa_Cocotea



Category: Doctor Who (TV Movie 1996)
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanessa_Cocotea/pseuds/Vanessa_Cocotea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From 2010:</p><p>A sweet little moment in the TARDIS, set just after the TVM.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> I agree with the Doctor...

He finished 'The Time Machine' and laid his head against the back of his reading chair, eyes closed in contemplation. There was the usual mixture of emotions on finishing a book, no matter how many times he'd read it. Satisfaction, when he'd enjoyed it - which he frequently did, but also, a sense of sadness at coming to the end of the story. It was almost like a goodbye, of sorts. Of course, he could - and frequently did, reread books, but, no matter how many times he did, it was a goodbye at the end. The goodbye was particularly sad as he would get completely lost in the story. It was like having to end a wonderful holiday. Sometimes, he would be so engrossed in the story, he would forget even where he really was!

He laid the book on the side table and picked up his cup of tea. It was now on the border between hot and warm, but he didn't mind. He was still lost in the story. Old Herbert George was certainly some writer. He smiled to himself, and mentally added, some guy as well. A few moments later, he 'came to' and, finishing his tea, found himself staring up at the overhead scanner. He spent some minutes watching the activities of the night sky now being displayed. It was absolutely fascinating. But after a bit, he got up, caressing the chair arms and both side tables in turn. He went to stand behind the chair, slowly feeling its rich fabric and smooth wood. He looked round the console room and then began to move round it. He found himself touching and softly caressing many things - the dividers between the bookshelves, the piano, the massive collection of clocks, various chairs, tables and the bookshelves themselves. He ran his hand gently over the Tiffany lampshades. He gave every plant in the conservatory area a sprinkle of water. Then he moved over to the console itself. All the while, he'd been humming his favourite song.

At the console, he carefully caressed the different panels and controls, a soft smile on his face. He patted the ledge of the console, kissed his fingers and touched them to the smooth, lovingly polished wood. He looked up at the gentle blue of the time rotor in its easy rise and fall, his eyes travelling ever further upwards. Then his smile became a grin and he murmured, "Perfect."

FIN


End file.
